Year of the Serpent
by The Pencil Goddess
Summary: When Harry Potter receives his Hogwarts letter, a lifetime full of memories come crashing back to him. His past life. A life where he was known as Salazar Slytherin. Salazar!Harry
1. Year One, Part One

**Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, am not JK Rowling, so I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Hello, my dear readers! This is the Pencil Goddess here! I'm _so_ sorry for not updating my stories, but I've been busy. For _Mendacium_, I haven't been able to update because, for the whole summer, I went on vacation! I left June 19, and came back August 5. Then, I had to deal with my annoying ****jet-lag, which lasted for around two weeks! And after that, I was pretty busy with my weird schedules, and school started September 4 for me! But now, I am here with a new story, featuring Salazar!Harry. **

**This story is a bit different from the other Salazar!Harry stories, I guess. Most of those stories feature a Salazar that loves all magic and muggleborns, and has nothing against muggles, unless they kill his younger sister, or something similar to that. But in here, you get a a Salazar who _doesn't _like muggleborns and muggles.**

**This is NOT SLASH, by the way.**

**Sorry for any typos, and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Harry Potter hated his relatives. He hated about how they called him a freak. He hated how Dudley always tried to intimidate him. He hated how Vernon treated him. He hated Petunia, because it was obvious that she only acted the way she did with him was because she was jealous of his mother. The way she talked about her sister gave it away. And currently, he hated how he was always forced to do things that his relatives were too lazy to do themselves.<p>

"Get the mail, Dudley," Vernon said when he heard the mail slot click and the letters flop onto the doormat.

"Make Harry get it," Harry's cousin whined.

_The fat lump only said that because he wouldn't be able to go to the front door and back without breaking sweat_, he thought darkly.

"Get the mail, Harry," Vernon grunted, surprising Harry with the use of his first name. Then again, Vernon probably only said that because he was too stupid to remember that he never called Harry by his name. It was always either _boy,_ or _freak_.

Rolling his eyes, Harry got up from the table and went to the front door. Three letters sat on the doormat. One appeared to be a brown envelope that looked like a bill, another was a postcard from Vernon's sister, Marge, and the last was a peculiar letter for _him_.

_There must be some mistake_, Harry thought, _I _never _get mail from people_. But there, on the letter, someone had written:

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whining_

_Surrey_

Harry tucked the envelope into his oversized pants and walked back to the table, carrying the two other letters in his hand. He proceeded to give Vernon the two letters and sat on his chair, eating his small portions calmly.

When everyone was done with breakfast, Harry washed the dishes, as usual, walked back into the cupboard, and closed the door. Then, he took out the letter and turned it over. There, was a wax seal with a coat of arms. The seal had a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large H.

Harry suddenly clutched his stomach as a slight nausea came over him. Was he going to be sick? He seriously didn't want to throw up in his cupboard. Harry tried to shut away the mental image of his barf covering all his stuff. He tried imagining random things.

_Snakes_, he tried, conjuring up a mental image of his favorite animal. _Snakes, and badgers, and lions, and eagles, and castles, and magic…_

Harry's mind was suddenly filled with vivid images of a boy who looked _just like him_. Dark hair tied in a ponytail, bright green eyes, but no glasses. Who was he? Harry felt a sharp pain in his head as memories overcame him.

* * *

><p><em>He was sixteen when he and his friends were trying to figure out the subjects to teach at their unnamed school. They were sitting in the Great Hall, drunk, and giggling to each other. <em>

"_It would be so amazing if we could teach cooking," Helga squealed, giggling crazily, twirling her red hair and getting her finger stuck in one of the tangles. _

"_Oh, please, Helga," he had snapped, feeling annoyed that she had suggested that. "Cooking is for House Elves. Wizards with blood as pure as mine should not be forced to cook."_

_Godric laughed loudly, clapping him on the back. "Salazar, your ego is getting more and more inflated! Blood should not matter, old friend!" With that, Godric took another sip of firewhiskey. _

_Rowena rubbed her temples and whined, "We still have to think of a name for our school! We cannot have students to go to a school with no name!" Rowena still had not even touched her firewhiskey, claiming that 'magical drinks' were too strong for her, and she would much rather drink muggle alcohol._

"_We could always name it Slytherin's School for Magical Children," he joked. _

_Godric laughed again. "Maybe we should name it something totally stupid, like Dragonfarts," he suggested. _

_Helga frowned. "Dragons fart? Would they fart fire? It would be awful if they did, because they could be in a forest, and all the trees would catch on fire!" she exclaimed. _

_He ignored her. "Maybe we should name it Owlwarts," he mused, causing Godric to roll his eyes. _

"_Salazar, owls don't have warts." Godric said. "I mean, they have feathers, so how could they have warts? Or maybe they do under their feathers! I got it! They have it under their feathers so no one can see them! That's why the unicorn ate my spinach!" Godric cried, spouting nonsense._

"_If owls don't have warts, we can name it Hogwarts," Helga babbled, exuberant that she finally had a suggestion. "Hogs have warts! Right, Rowena?" _

"_Yes, they do." Rowena said stiffly. "But Hogwarts is a stupid name."_

"_Don't be a party pooper," he responded. "I like the name. All in favor of naming it Hogwarts?" _

_He, Helga and Godric raised their hands. And just like that, their new school was called Hogwarts._

* * *

><p>Harry stood in his cupboard, letter clutched in his hands, staring at the crest. How could he have been so stupid before? Building a school with a filthy mudblood and blood-traitors? No doubt that the school was overflowing with mudbloods now. That was the reason he, Salazar Slytherin, left the school.<p>

Harry (or was it Salazar?) frowned. He had been reincarnated as a _halfblood?_ With glasses? It was no doubt better than being a filthy mudblood with glasses, but he still found it disgusting. When he got his wand back, he would be able to correct his vision, like how he helped correct Rowena's, even though she was a mudblood. It was worth it when he saw the horror on her face as he revealed how it was classified as a Dark spell!

Smirking, Harry proceeded to open the Hogwarts letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry sneered at the letter. Await his owl? As Harry Potter, he didn't _have_ an owl! Despite all the mudbloods there, he still wanted to go! He _needed_ to see how his school turned out! But how would he send them his letter?

* * *

><p>Harry snuck out of his cupboard and walked over to Arabella Figg's house. After a few seconds of pondering, he had come to the conclusion that she was a Squib. Why else would she have kneazles? Hopefully, she would have parchment, quill, and ink, along with an owl for him to respond with.<p>

"Thank you again, Ms. Figg! I can't possibly thank you enough!" Harry said, ten minutes later, exiting his neighbor's house. After turning on the charm, she nearly fell over herself as she rushed to get him the supplies needed for writing and sending his letter. She even threw in some biscuits and tea while she was at it.

* * *

><p>The next day, there was a knock on the door.<p>

"_Boy!_ Get the door!" His filthy muggle uncle roared as Harry put on his glasses, nearly poking himself in the eye as he did so. Harry obediently got out of his cupboard and walked to the door. Hopefully, it would be his Hogwarts escort.

Smoothing out his rumpled, over-sized shirt, he opened the door. A severe-looking woman with her gray hair in a tight bun peered curiously at him as he did so.

"I am Minerva McGonagall, head of the Gryffindor House. You will call me Professor, or Ma'am, at all times, or you will lose house points and find yourself in detention. I am here on behalf of Hogwarts, as your escort to Diagon Alley, where you will get your school supplies," she told him.

Harry's eyes widened innocently at her. "Professor, I'm afraid I don't have a supply list! And is magic actually real? Do you have magic wands? This is so cool!" he babbled, keeping on the act of an innocent child.

McGonagall smiled. "Do not worry, Mr. Potter. I have a list of everything you will need right here." she handed him a letter, and then paused. "May I speak to your guardians?"

Harry smirked internally. If he put on a convincing act, he could have the chance of being removed from his muggle relatives and placed with a nice, pureblooded family instead!

"I- Do you have to, Professor? They-they might be mad at me for interrupting them! They might beat me again!" he cried, clutching at her robes, looking at her with fake tears in his eyes, showing her a bruise on his arm that Vernon had given him. "I- I'm scared! What if they kill me this time! Uncle Vernon said he would kill me if I interrupted him one more time!" he lied, hoping to get her to take him away from the filthy muggles.

McGonagall looked scandalized. "They beat you?" she gasped. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I will have to talk to them immediately," she said, marching into the kitchen, a murderous expression on her face. McGonagall swung open the kitchen door and glared at Petunia and Vernon, who were making out in a repulsive manner.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley!" McGonagall snapped. "How could you abuse your own nephew! He was placed in your care because Albus was convinced you would be good to him and treat him as your own! How could you? Lily and James would have been furious!"

Vernon turned red and Petunia turned white. "You little freak!" Vernon snarled, lunging at Harry. "What have you been telling the woman?"

Harry fake-sobbed and clutched McGonagall's robes tighter. "I didn't mean to! I swear!" he wailed.

McGonagall patted Harry's shoulder and snapped, "You should be ashamed of yourself, Vernon Dursley! Why, I should take Harry away and place him with a proper family who actually cares about him!"

Petunia turned even paler. "Don't listen to him! He's a liar! We haven't been abusing him at all! He's perfectly fine!" she protested, causing McGonagall to glower at her.

"You think he's fine? He's so skinny! He's probably malnourished, his glasses look broken, and he has bruises everywhere!" McGonagall argued. "I'm taking him to Diagon Alley right now, and when he comes back, you had better be treating him correctly!"

Obviously shaken, Petunia bobbed her head fearfully. Vernon turned even redder.

"Now, listen here! I'm not listening to you! You freaks better be getting out of my house, or I won't hesitate to grab my rifle! You can take him! Take his stuff! We don't even want him in this house!" Vernon exclaimed angrily. Petunia bobbed her head again, but this time, in agreement, and not fear.

This time, McGonagall turned red. "You don't want your nephew? I- I- The nerve of you! Almost everyone in the wizarding world would want to adopt him! In fact, I think he'll be better off there!" she spluttered. Then she turned to Harry, who had stopped pretending to sob. "Mr. Potter, grab your things. We're leaving."

Harry looked down. "It's fine. I don't really have to go get my things. I don't have that many, anyway," he whispered.

McGonagall's eye twitched for a second. "Very well, Mr. Potter. Let us go. But be warned, when travelling like this, most people throw up on their first time." And with that, she grabbed his arm and Apparated.

For the first time in eleven years, Harry was able to feel the thrill of Apparition again. Most people would say that the feeling of being squeezed through a tube was not fun, but to Salazar, it was the best form of transportation, ever.

When the pair landed in Diagon Alley, Harry made sure to clutch his stomach and groan. "I think I'm going to hurl," he muttered, putting on a nauseous expression.

McGonagall threw a sympathetic expression on his face. "Come now, Mr. Potter. We have many things to do today," she said, leading him to what looked like a magical orphanage.

"Witches and wizards have orphanages?" Harry blurted, surprised. He hadn't expected this new development. When he was Salazar, orphans roamed the streets, homeless. There were no formal orphanages.

"Where else do you expect orphans to go?" McGonagall asked, holding open the door.

Harry shrugged and stepped inside, not wanting to mention what happened all those years ago. Things wouldn't go too well if orphanages existed in the muggle world, and not the wizarding world. Then she would question where he got the information.

"Welcome to Flamel's Orphanage for Magical Children! I'm Miss Julia! Would you like to adopt a child? We have children of all ages, and I have no doubt that you'll be able to find the kind of child you're looking for!" a blonde lady who looked to be around twenty-five gushed, all in one breath.

"No, thank you, Miss Mason," McGonagall told the lady.

"Oh, P- Professor McGonagall! What are you doing here? I never thought I'd see you again! What happened?" Julia asked, looking horrified at seeing one of her former teachers where she worked.

McGonagall sighed, looking annoyed, causing Julia to flinch. "Mr. Potter's parents are, unfortunately, deceased, and his relatives are unwilling to take him in. I was wondering if there is a place here at this orphanage."

Julia's blue eyes widened comically. "Harry Potter?" she all but squealed.

Harry mentally rolled his eyes. What could have possibly gotten her so excited? Was it the fact that he was the heir of a prominent pureblood family? Or was it something else entirely?

"That's me," he mumbled, acting shy.

"Oh. My. Merlin. Harry freakin' Potter!" she said. "You're so cute! I never thought I'd have the pleasure of meeting you!"

Time to get some information. "Why? Am I famous or something?" he questioned.

Julia gaped at him. "You mean you don't know?"

Harry resisted the urge to strangle her. Would he be asking if he didn't? "No. Sorry," he whispered, looking at his shoes.

Julia put an arm around him. "Well, Harry," Julia began, "it all started when You-Know-Who attacked your house when you were only one year old. . . "

* * *

><p>After what seemed like forever, Julia finally finished talking and gave him a bed at the orphanage. She even sang a song about how he was "Harry freakin' Potter", and how they didn't prefer Gandalf, Merlin, or Oz, which confused him. They didn't prefer Merlin? The wizarding world even said, "Oh my Merlin." They didn't say, "Oh my Harry." Breaking off that train of thought, Harry thought about how excited he was, able to go into Diagon Alley to get school supplies. But first, they had to make a stop at Gringotts, a bank that even existed when Salazar was alive.<p>

Harry and McGonagall walked past many stores, and even one with broomsticks in it. They were talking about the newest Nimbus Two Thousand, which was apparently the fastest broom ever. Harry's eyes had lingered on the broom for a while, his hands wanting to grip a broom again, before looking at a snowy white building, which towered over all the other shops, which now seemed small to him. Gringotts.

It had greatly expanded since Salazar's day. Before, it was a rather small building, but now, it was at least ten times its size before!

As they went inside, Harry saw words that certainly weren't there before, engraved upon a silver door:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn, _

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there. _

"Good morning," McGonagall said to an unoccupied goblin. "Mr. Potter would like to access his vault."

"Does he have his key?" the goblin asked, eyeing Harry as if he would try to steal from the bank. He wasn't suicidal, nor did he want to go to Azkaban, thank you very much.

"I have it here," McGonagall responded stiffly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small golden key.

* * *

><p>Harry came out of cart holding a large sack of Galleons, sickles, and knuts, feeling exhilarated. Gringotts rides were <em>awesome<em>. McGonagall looked slightly queasy.

"Come now, Mr. Potter. Time for you to get your school uniform," she told him. When they were almost out the door, his escort was stopped by a large man with an unshaven face.

_A man that large, _Harry thought with disgust_, must be a halfbreed. A half-giant, most likely_.

"Professor McGonagall!" the man cried jovially. "An' this mus' be young Harry! Why, I haven't seen yeh since th' night yer parents died. . ." the man trailed off, looking slightly sad.

"Hagrid," McGonagall greeted stiffly, looking slightly sad as well. Ah, so both of them were most likely close with his parents. "What are you doing at Gringotts?" McGonagall proceeded to ask.

Hagrid lowered his voice. "I'm picking up th' You-Know-What in vault in vault seven hundred and thirteen." Harry's interest was peaked. What could possibly be so important in that vault?

"I see. Well, we must be going now. Have a good day, Hagrid," McGonagall told him.

"Bye," Harry said. Before he could do anything, Hagrid crushed Harry in a giant hug.

"Good bye," Hagrid said. "It was nice meetin' yeh."

"You too," Harry told him, but it sounded slightly muffled, seeing as how his face was in Hagrid's grimy shirt.

_Ew_.

McGonagall proceeded to lead Harry to a store called _Madam Malkins, _or something like that, and told him to wait there while she got his books. Harry sighed and entered the shop. A blonde boy was getting fitted.

"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy. Are you going to Hogwarts, too?" The way the boy talked reminded him of the way Godric used to talk. In fact, Draco Malfoy even looked slightly like Godric. He snickered at the thought. A Malfoy as the reincarnation of Godric Gryffindor? Malfoys rarely didn't get in Slytherin, and when they were Sorted into a different house, it was _always_ Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor. But besides, he didn't even know if the other founders were getting reincarnated or not. Time to see if Godric got reincarnated.

"Yes," he answered. "Which house do you want to get in the most? I'm not really sure yet. My name's Harry, by the way." There. He could avoid answering the question now. If he said Slytherin and the boy was Godric, it could cause a rift between them and prevent him from getting more information.

"Most of the Malfoys have been in Slytherin," the boy answered. "My parent's want me to get in, but, well, I don't know. Maybe, _just maybe_, I could go into a house like Gryffindor." Draco's voice gradually got more and more quiet and actually began to whisper towards the end.

Okay. That's it. Harry was going to eat his hat if Draco wasn't Godric's reincarnation.

"Godric," Harry said quietly.

"_Wh-what?_ How'd you know I was Godric?" Draco looked horrified.

Harry blinked innocently, smirking inwardly. "You're Godric? Wow! I _didn't_ know! I just thought you looked a bit like him, since I saw a picture of him before! But. . . h-how're you Godric Gryffindor? I thought he died, like a bajillion years ago. Isn't that basically what the books say?"

"Wh- er, uh, um, well," Draco stammered, trying to think of something. Then his eyes suddenly narrowed. "_Salazar_," he snarled.


	2. Year One, Part Two

**Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, so I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters you recognize. **

**Hey, guys! I was going to post this a lot later, but I decided not to keep you guys in suspense! Lucky you! **

**Also, sorry if my updates are irregular. I have a lot of extracurricular activities, and I have ****_so_**** much homework. I guess that's what I get for testing into the most advanced classes. Seriously, though. Last year, I was so happy to find out that I was in the best classes, but now, I regret it, because of ****_all _****that homework! I have a life! **

**Okay, enough ranting. Sorry about that.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Wh- er, uh, um, well," Draco stammered, trying to think of something. Then his eyes suddenly narrowed. "Salazar," he snarled.<em>

* * *

><p>Harry inwardly panicked. Keeping a confused facade on, he turned around. "Where?" he asked. "Isn't Salazar Slytherin some evil guy who believed in pureblood supremacy? I'm a halfblood! Should I hide?" Harry said, his face completely straight.<p>

Draco blinked, confused. "B-but _you're_ Salazar! He's not behind you! _You are him. Him are you,_" Draco said. Then he blinked. "Er, _he is you_."

Harry almost started laughing. Godric really _didn't_ have any tact. He couldn't just accuse someone of being Salazar Slytherin without getting more information first!

"Slytherin is me? Huh? Hold on, I'm a bit confused. Are you calling me some evil guy who ran away from Hogwarts because of all the mu-ggleborns? Would Slytherin be going back if he ran away from it?" Harry questioned. _Yes, because he wanted to see how to turned out._

Draco blinked. He obviously hadn't thought of that. "Er, no? I mean, yes? I mean, no! I was just, erm, playing a prank on you? Yeah, it was a prank. Ha-ha! Yes! Pranks are fun?" he said, obviously just saying whatever popped into his head. "Er, I'm just going to go now."

"Bye!" Harry called, snickering as Draco walked out of the door.

* * *

><p>Harry left Flourish and Blotts carrying colossal amount of books. McGonagall even had to carry some of them for him. They wouldn't even all fit in his trunk <em>and<em> cauldron, and McGonagall refused to "teach" him the shrinking charm for his books, because she claimed that they didn't teach it until Fourth Year Charms.

"Fine. But since you won't teach me, can I have a pet?" Harry had asked. After turning on the charm, as well as the puppy-dog eyes, Harry emerged from Eyelop's Owl Emporium with a new snowy owl named Hedwig. He had thought about getting a snake, until he realized that it might expose him as a Parselmouth, which would cause even more suspicion from Draco Malfoy.

After playing with Hedwig for a while, the Transfiguration teacher practically dragged him to Ollivander's, saying how they should go back to the orphanage soon, which annoyed Harry slightly. He had no idea where his old wand was and he wasn't very keen on meeting another Ollivander. Salazar hadn't been particularly fond of the previous Ollivander. He would have never admitted it, but the old man terrified him. A lot. Which was hard to do, considering all those things that Salazar was afraid of. Embarrassingly enough, his previous Boggart had even been Ollivander, staring at him with those pale, unblinking eyes. Harry shuddered at the thought and almost walked into one of the fragile-looking walls of the shop.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I've been expecting you," a descendent of the Ollivander that Salazar had known whispered eerily.

Harry suppressed the urge to shudder again. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander. I'm here for a wand."

_No duh_.

* * *

><p>Myriads of wand boxes were scattered on the floor as Ollivander practically bounced after announcing that he blabbered about some eleven inch holly and phoenix feather wand. A few seconds later, Ollivander handed him the wand.<p>

Harry rolled his eyes and looked skeptically at the wand, waved it, and was stunned to see it produce a stream of green and silver sparks.

"Oh, bravo!" Ollivander cried, before proceeding to feed Harry a story about how the brother wand gave him the scar and was wielded by Voldemort.

"That's nice, Mr. Ollivander. But I was wondering if you had some wands from the founders of Hogwarts?" Harry inquired politely, trying to figure out if he could get his past wand to work.

Ollivander froze. "And why are you asking this, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged innocently. "I was just curious."

"Funny that you should ask this, Mr. Potter. Three other students have asked me this question this summer, all beginning Hogwarts this year. One was able to wield Godric Gryffindor's, another was able to wield Helga Hufflepuff's, and the other produced marvelous effects from Rowena Ravenclaw's."

Harry attempted to keep his expression neutral. So, most likely, the other founders were alive and the same age as him. "I would like to try Slytherin's wand, Mr. Ollivander. I think it would be useful to have more than one wand, in case something happens to the first. Hypothetically, if I was able to use Slytherin's, how much would it cost?" Harry asked.

"It would cost the same as any other wand, Mr. Potter. Seven galleons. Here, why don't you give this a shot?" Immediately, Ollivander handed Harry another wand. His wand. Salazar's wand. His beautiful, twelve inch, ebony and basilisk scale wand. Harry ran his finger down it and waved it. It responded to him brilliantly. Harry felt ecstatic.

"It works!" Harry cried joyfully, grinning ear to ear. "Here you go, fourteen galleons!" Harry actually skipped out of the store. McGonagall followed him.

"Well, Mr. Potter, today has been a very exciting day, but I believe it is not time for you to go back to the orphanage," McGonagall told him sternly.

Harry nodded happily. "Okay," he agreed. "Thanks, by the way. Bye!" And with that, Harry Potter strolled off to the orphanage, carrying all his things, and grinned.

Time to correct his eyesight.

* * *

><p>"Time to go, kids! Off to the Hogwarts Express!" Julia hollered. "Grab your portkey and activate it by saying, 'Education is important'!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she disappeared off to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.<p>

All the kids followed, including Harry, who was wearing his fake glasses just for show. He couldn't wait to see Hogwarts again. Then, he would be able to visit the Chamber of Secrets again and see Jonathan Robert Joseph (John Bob Joe, or JBJ for short), his basilisk again! Harry remembered when he was still struggling to name John Bob Joe. Godric, the resident object and animal namer had declared that the baby basilisk looked like a Jonathan Robert Joseph. Salazar had shot the idea down immediately, saying that it didn't flow, but JBJ disagreed and said that he liked the name, cutting off Salazar's protests. Godric had looked at him smugly, before naming Salazar's left shoe.

Harry reappeared at the Platform, where parents were sobbing and hugging their children. He scowled at them, levitated his trunk containing his shrunken books and supplies, marched on the train and looked for an empty compartment. Unfortunately, the compartment closest to empty already had an occupant in it- a redheaded girl.

Dragging his trunk instead of levitating it (it would be sure to attract the attention of the girl, who looked to be a first year), Harry opened the door and asked, "Is it okay if I sit here? All the other compartments are full."

The girl smiled at him kindly and nodded. "Of course," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. First year."

Harry grinned at her. "I'm Harry. Also a first year."

Susan laughed. "What? So no last name? Would I be correct if I said you were Harry Potter?" she asked, her eyes scanning his forehead for his famous scar.

Harry sighed. "Well, you aren't incorrect when you say that. It's rather annoying when people say, 'Merlin! You're Harry Potter! You defeated You-Know-Who!', and all that nonsense. Why are they telling me that? Trust me, I've read about myself many times, and all the books say different things. I mean, how would they know about me? Only four people were at my house that night, and three of them died. I was a baby, so I wouldn't remember. Where are they getting their information from?" he ranted. He hated false information, and needed to find out what _really_ happened that night. How _did_ he survive?

Right after Harry finished his rant, the door opened, and Draco Malfoy stepped in.

"Hey," Draco greeted. "I just ditched those mindless goons whose jobs are to follow me around, courtesy of my father. Do you mind if I sit here? My name's Draco, Draco Malfoy," he said to Susan.

Susan grinned. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm Susan Bones. This here, is Harry Potter," Susan said, nudging Harry a bit. "Say hello, Mr. Celebrity," she teased.

Draco's eyes widened. "_You're_ Harry Potter? Well, now I've officially embarrassed myself that day at Madam Malkin's," he joked.

Harry laughed. Then he decided to make Draco a bit nervous. "Did you hear about how at Ollivander's, four wands that belonged to the founders were sold to four first years?"

Draco and Susan both stiffened.

Harry's felt his heart stop at Susan's movement. Was she Helga or Rowena?

"Well, yes, actually. I was able to buy Hufflepuff's," Susan said, looking slightly nervous. Good girl. Helga had never been able to lie, so she knew if she tried, she wouldn't convince anyone.

Draco stared at her. "Really? I was able to buy Gryffindor's! My father looked terrified when it chose me, though. He wanted me to get Slytherin's."

"That's right!" Harry chirped, grinning. Time to make the two other first-years feel awkward. "Draco, weren't you talking about how you were the reincarnation of Godric Gryffindor, or something?" Harry was inwardly cracking up. The expression on Susan's face was _priceless_.

"Godric?" Susan asked, forgetting Harry's existence somehow.

"Helga," Draco breathed, also forgetting about how Harry was in the compartment. The two embraced each other in a hug.

"Ahem." Harry coughed, trying to seem out of place and awkward, which, really, wasn't that hard.

"Oh!" Susan cried, her face as red as her hair. "Sorry about that. Er, we were just-"

"-Eating Pumpkin Pasties," Draco blurted randomly. Susan stared at him incredulously.

"You were eating Pumpkin Pasties?" Harry asked, also staring at Draco. Godric was even worse than Helga when it came to lying, but really? Eating Pumpkin Pasties?

"Y-Yes. I mean, no? Er, prank! This was another prank! Yeah," Draco said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, not unlike a guilty child.

The rest of the train ride was silent, except for the few whispers exchanged from Susan to Draco.

Harry took the time to decide which house he was to get sorted into. If he chose Slytherin, that would attract attention, and people would worry about the Boy-Who-Lived going dark. If he got into Gryffindor, he would have to be surrounded by crazy hooligans with no brains, not to mention all those mudbloods and muggle-lovers. If he chose Ravenclaw, then he would be stuck with a bunch of know-it-alls and kill-joys. If he got into Hufflepuff, he would be surrounded by weak-minded leftovers who were too stupid for Ravenclaw, not ambitious enough for Slytherin, and too cowardly for Gryffindor.

_Slytherin it is_, he thought. To avoid everything thinking he turned dark, he would have to charm all the teachers and students. He would be helpful, brilliant, and a model student. Like usual, his acting would be flawless, so, hopefully, no one would suspect anything of him.

* * *

><p>"Four to a boat!" the massive gamekeeper shouted. Harry barely refrained from wrinkling his nose at the filthy halfbreed. Looking around, he chose to sit with Draco and Susan, as well as some bushy-haired girl, who was looking around like she was searching for someone.<p>

"Are you looking for something?" Harry asked her politely.

She blushed. "Oh, no, but thank you for asking. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter," Harry replied. "I've never heard of your surname. Are you muggleborn?" he asked, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

"Yes," she answered. "I'm the first one in my family with magic. My family was so shocked when the Hogwarts letter came. They thought it was a prank. But Harry Potter? I've read all about you! How did you survive the Killing Curse?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But don't listen to what those books tell you. I mean, how do _they_ know what happened? There were only four people at my house that night. Three of them died, and I was a baby? So really, where are they getting their information from?"

The mudblood's eyes widened. "So the books are wrong? B-but they're books! They can't be wrong!" she said, horror evident in her voice.

"Harry's right. I'm Susan Bones, by the way," Susan chimed in. Hmph. Eavesdropper.

"The authors _do_ have no way of finding out what happened. My name's Draco Malfoy," Draco added in.

Granger looked scandalized. "Then how were they allowed to publish it? I swear, this media thing is getting outrageous! Back in my day, they didn't allow people to print false information like this!"

Harry frowned. "Back in your day? What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"That's what I would like to know! I mean, it's not like you were alive back then! So, how exactly would you know this?" Susan asked curiously.

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "I mean, it's not like you're a time-traveller, or the reincarnation of someone back then," he said, obviously suspecting something.

_Ah,_ Harry thought. _He suspects that she's Rowena, doesn't he?_

Granger looked extremely nervous. "I-I've read articles on how things were like back then," she stammered.

"But what did you mean when you said, 'Back in your day'?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowed.

The mudblood appeared to steel herself and hide her emotions. "I was writing something for a research project back in my muggle school. The assignment was written in first person, and it took place thousands of years ago. We had to read our essays in front of the whole class, so I practiced mine multiple times, in order to not make a fool out of myself," she lied. Rowena had always been a better liar than Godric and Helga, but no one _ever_ got past Salazar when it came to lies and half-truths.

"Don't muggle schools end in June and begin in September? You've had two months to forget the assignment. I find it highly unlikely that you would still be talking in first person when it comes to thousand of years ago," Harry argued.

Granger paled. "H-how would _you _know?"

Harry smirked. "I _went_ to a muggle school. I'm a halfblood, you see. Living in the muggle world for eleven years causes me to be aware of these things."

"Well, I-I don't see how this is any of your business," Granger spluttered, her face turning slightly pink.

Harry's smirk widened. "Very well."

* * *

><p>"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony, because while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts." The Transfiguration professor continued to drone on and on about Hogwarts.<p>

"I heard we get sorted by taking a test," a boy said, looking frightened.

"Well, _I_ heard that we have to wrestle a troll," another boy said.

"My sister said that the teachers pick names out of a hat," a girl said.

Harry snorted. At least the girl got the hat part right. But wrestle a troll? Really? That would surely kill a lot of first years. And taking a test? On what? Personality? Oh, please, people could be dishonest!

"New students!" said a ghost. The Fat Friar, Salazar recalled, judging from his kind expression and his round body. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few students nodded.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the ghost said. "My old House, you know."

Harry inwardly sneered. Him, get into Hufflepuff? He'd rather be kissed by a dementor! Hufflepuff! Ugh!

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. McGonagall. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

McGonagall proceed to tell the first years to form a line. With that, the group took off into the Great Hall.

"Wow!" Harry heard a bunch of first years gasp. The Great Hall certainly looked different from when Salazar was alive, but then again, that was thousands of years ago. Still, it had nothing on Slytherin Manor. Ah, how he longed to go back. Harry's thoughts were interrupted when the old Sorting Hat (It was still alive and working?) burst into song.

_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

McGonagall began calling people to the stool for Sorting. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, and sat down. After a moment's pause, the hat yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Susan Bones was next. After what seemed like a long conversation with the hat, it yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!" as well. Susan beamed and skipped over to the Hufflepuff table, where people were applauding. Harry snorted. If Susan got anywhere other than Hufflepuff, then he'd eat the Sorting Hat. Where else could the reincarnation of Helga Hufflepuff go?

The Sorting continued, and Harry felt himself growing bored. After a while, "Granger, Hermione" was called.

The mudblood ran to the stool and stuck the hat on her head. She, too, seemed to have a conversation with the hat. "RAVENCLAW!" the hat finally yelled.

After what seemed like forever, Draco Malfoy was called. The reincarnation of Gryffindor walked confidently to the stand. The Slytherin table seemed to get ready to clap, and Harry resisted to urge to snicker. Draco was _definitely_ going into Gryffindor.

Five minutes passed, and Draco was still having what looked to be a very cheerful conversation with the hat, judging by his happy expression, and the Sorting Hat declared, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Silence. Utter silence filled the call. People stared at him incredulously. A Malfoy, in Gryffindor? The Slytherins stared at Draco in horror, some gazing at him in betrayal. Draco seemed to realize all the stares he was getting. He shrugged at them, and happily strolled over to the Gryffindor table. The lions all clapped, still looking stunned.

"It's Sirius Black all over again," Harry heard McGonagall mumble. That peaked Harry's interest. Who was Sirius Black? The name sounded so familiar. Black. . . The Blacks were a dark family from in Salazar's time, he recalled. Had a Black been recently Sorted into Gryffindor?

"Potter, Harry," McGonagall announced. Whispers broke out in the Great Hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped forward. The hat was dropped onto his head, and he heard the Sorting Hat's voice.

_Salazar? _the hat asked.

Harry snorted. _Well, it certainly isn't Godric. You already Sorted him_.

_How did you know? _the hat wondered.

_Godric never has any tact. He gave it away during our first meeting. By the way, do _not _tell him who I am, or I will chop you to pieces and feed you to John Bob Joe_, Harry warned.

_You're just a little ray of sunshine, aren't you? _the hat said, sarcasm as clear as day.

_Just Sort me already_, Harry thought. _People are looking at me expectantly. Plus, the Gryffindors are getting ready to clap. Just put me into Slytherin. _

The hat sighed. _Everyone is so rushed these days. No more time for chatting_. _Fine, I suppose. _"SLYTHERIN!"

People gasped. A few fell off their chairs. A greasy-haired, hook-nosed professor sitting at the head table choked on his drink, turned stark white, and dropped his goblet. McGonagall's jaw tightened. Albus Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle.

Harry let no emotion show on his face. He walked to the Slytherin table. The Slytherins slowly began clapping. The other Houses remained silent, staring at Harry in horror. _They're looking at me like I'm the bloody Dark Lord, _Harry thought. _Wait. Me as the Dark Lord. That doesn't sound like such a bad idea._

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! No cliff-hanger (kind of)! I will try to update again soon, though it might be next month, or the month after. If I update <em>after<em> 2015 starts, then I am SO sorry. **

**Also, THE BLOOD OF OLYMPUS IS COMING OUT! IT'S FREAKING COMING OUT! SOMEONE KILL ME! I MUST KNOW WHAT HAPPENS! **

**For those of you who don't know, The Blood of Olympus is the last book of _Heroes of Olympus_, which is a series by Rick Riordan. _Heroes of Olympus_ is kind of like a sequel series to Percy Jackson and the Olympians. **

**For my other fanfiction, _Mendacium_, I'm NOT going to abandon it. Don't worry. I'm just trying my best to work on it and have the next chapter up soon. **

**ALSO, my goal is to make each chapter AT LEAST 3,000 words or more, so it takes time. **

**Thanks! **

Signing off,

The Pencil Goddess

10/5/14


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